She laid her hand in his

So, I feel a bit better. I started working in earnest on a new issue of my porno zine, Scorcher. Never mind that no one wants a new issue, or that I only have one idea ever. New issue by Winter. Or Spring. The only thing that feels good is having another feeling.

Moving on: who knew? I should try it more often.

I'm not losing the fight. I'm just not holding a grudge. It feels like surrender, but the fight was with me. So I waive the white flag and I also put the guns away. I've destroyed myself this way and I don't have the energy today. I feel really disgusting, so I assume this must be indicative of something. If I feel awful, something must have happened. I feel dysfunctional, I must be wrong somehow.

I go out looking for empirical proof of my feelings. We cannot arm ourselves, I think, with only our pain. Something to look forward to. I wish I had one.

At the same time, for days now, I've had the quiet suspicion that something is about to happen.

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